


Catch Me a Catch

by rabidchild67



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: M/M, Matchmaking, Pre-Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-05 22:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick and Monroe independently decide to keep an eye out for Roddy; he notices there’s a spark between the two of them and decides to try to kindle it into a flame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch Me a Catch

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a lyric from the song “Matchmaker” from the musical “Fiddler on the Roof.”

Roddy sat with his arms crossed in the police squad room, glowering darkly at the officer that stood before him. 

“Mind the attitude, kid,” the man, whose nametag read, “Sgt. Wu,” warned. “If it were up to me, you’d be booked for grand larceny, but you’ve got a fairy godmother, it seems.”

“What?” Roddy scoffed.

Wu walked away, and behind him Roddy saw Detective Nick Burkhardt standing in the doorway, looking at him placidly. 

“Oh, it’s you,” Roddy said, rolling his eyes and slouching further into his chair. Roddy hadn’t seen the man since that night in the warehouse three months ago, but somehow he didn’t think finding himself on the Grimm’s radar once again would add up to a good situation for himself.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Burkhardt replied, artificially deepening his voice and slouching forward in what Roddy assumed was an imitation of him. He walked over until he was standing over Roddy, who was forced to look up at him. “I was hoping never to see you in trouble again, Roddy.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t do nothin’, so you can just let me go.”

The Grimm gave him a look like he knew he was full of shit. “You got caught stealing a pretty high end deck from that skate shop.”

Roddy just shrugged. But what he really wanted to say was that it was his friend Dan who did it, and that Dan wasn’t even really his friend, just one of the kids at school who’d actually hang out with him, and if he had his choice, he’d tell the privileged asshole to go screw, but somehow he couldn’t because at least he _talked to him_.

“But I see in the report that you didn’t have it on you,” he said, his voice leading. Roddy looked up at him trying to maintain his glower. “Did someone talk you into it?”

Roddy made that wordless, “I dunno,” sound universal to all teens and cut his eyes away.

Burkhardt nodded understandingly. “Or maybeeee… someone else took it and you were just along for the ride?”

Roddy looked at him, surprised, and then looked away. He wondered if the Grimm had special mind-reading powers, and tried frantically to think of anything else except what they were talking about. But then he could only think about the porno he’d swiped from his old man the night before, and _that_ wasn’t anything he wanted the Grimm to know about, so he decided to go on the offensive.

“What’s it matter to you anyway? Just another _Wesen_ fucking up to you, ain’t I? Throwing me in jail would prolly be the highlight of your day.”

The cop just smiled sadly at him. “First of all, it’s beneath you to use the word ‘ain’t,’ and secondly, contrary to what you might believe, I understand you a lot more than you think.”

Roddy just continued to glare at him, but the Grimm kept a steady eye on him, and didn’t back down. “Your dad home?” he asked finally.

“Naw, he’s got a job out in Beaverton. He’ll be late tonight.”

“You eat yet?”

\----

Burkhardt took care of whatever paperwork there was and took Roddy out to his car, saying he’d feed him before he took him home. They stopped at a 50’s style diner and Roddy ordered the bacon cheeseburger. Nick ordered the veggie burger.

“You a vegetarian?” Roddy asked around a mouthful of fries.

The cop was suddenly thoughtful. “Not usually. Guess it’s become a habit.” He shrugged. “What have you been up to?”

“I lost my scholarship, so now I’m going to the public high school.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I guess they don’t have much of a music program. Have you been practicing?”

Roddy sipped at his cherry Coke. “Every day.”

“But not today?”

Roddy turned his head and gave him a look. “I know what you’re gonna say. I’m getting mixed up with the ‘wrong element.’”

“I – the thought hadn’t entered my mind,” Burkhardt said unconvincingly.

“I’m not, you know. That kid – he didn’t tell me what he was gonna do, and I just – I don’t have any other friends.” It was a hard admission to make, but the cop had turned out to be easy to talk to.

Burkhardt put his burger down and wiped his hands on his napkin. “I get it. More than you think, actually. It’s just you and your dad, right? And he works really hard, so he’s not around a lot. And you’ve got a lot of free time on your hands, so maybe you don’t go home from school right away every day. Maybe you hang with your friends too long, or at least with the guys who will call you a friend. And sometimes they’re not the best people. Am I close?”

Roddy stared at his half-eaten burger and nodded.

“I was you, you know. Not a lot of money in the house, no one around half the time. It’s hard. And it’s easy to find yourself on the wrong path sometimes. Really easy. But you, Roddy, you’ve got actual _talent_. You can get out – make something of your life.”

“Like you did?”

“Yeah, something like that. Only better.” Burkhardt smiled. “Finish your burger and I’ll get you a piece of chocolate cake,” he promised, and stole a fry off Roddy’s plate.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The next week, Roddy was practicing at home when he heard a knock at the door of the trailer. He went to open it and had to quell the urge to flee – it was the _blutbad_ Monroe again, and despite knowing the guy was reformed and supposedly not interested in hurting a fly, Roddy’s natural prey instincts still screamed at him. But despite this, he soon calmed down because Monroe’s body language was anything but threatening. He stood in his doorway, head stooped and shoulders hunched – the posture of so many tall men, Roddy had noticed – and fumbled with a wide, flat paper bag he held in his fingers. “Can I come in?”

Roddy backed up and gave him room to enter, depositing his violin and bow on the coffee table. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

“I was at Morrison’s this morning,” Monroe said, referring to the music store downtown, “and I came across this sheet music and I thought you might like it.” He handed it over. 

“Bach? This piece is for violin and cello.”

“I know. I play. Cello. I thought you’d want someone to practice with. Riff off of.”

“Did Nick send you over?” Roddy suspected the Grimm had conscripted Monroe to help keep an eye on him.

“No,” Monroe replied, confused. “I was just thinking it would be cool to jam with you. Oh, and this too.” He pulled a rumpled flyer out of his pocket and shoved it at Roddy. 

“New Horizons Charter School?” Roddy read.

“It’s a great performing arts school, especially for music. They have an open audition in three months, and I thought you might be interested. I heard from Nick you lost your scholarship.”

“Yeah.”

“So I was thinking you’d want an audition piece, and that Bach – well, there are some great sections, technically complex and perfect for you. So, you know…” his voice trailed off.

Roddy looked up at him, and their eyes connected. He saw there a genuine interest in him, and in the music, and he believed him when he said he wanted to help. And then he thought about what Nick said about making the right kinds of friends and wondered if this was maybe a step down the “right path.” So what if this new friend was old enough to be his dad? Besides, a chance to get into a performing arts school was not to be passed up.

“You’re not a serial killer or anything, are you?”

“Not anymore.”

“I guess it’s OK then. When should we begin?”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

A few days later, Roddy was waiting at the bus stop near school when the skies opened up and it began to pour. Again. “Fucking Portland,” he muttered, pulling his collar up against it and jamming his hands into his pockets. Luckily, his dad had thought years ago to get him a waterproof violin case.

He was beginning to wonder if perhaps there was a transit strike he hadn’t heard about when a car pulled up to the curb in front of him, and the passenger window rolled down.

“Where you headed?” Nick Burkhardt called from the driver’s side.

“Music lesson,” Roddy called out.

“Want a lift?”

Roddy didn’t have to be asked twice; he ran to the car, hauled the door open and jumped gratefully into the SUV. “Man, I can’t _wait_ for the day I have a car of my own!” he said.

Nick laughed. “Public transportation not your favorite way to get around?”

“Keeping my carbon footprint low’s beginning to cramp my style.”

“Ha! So where you headed?”

“Music lesson.” Roddy gave him the address. “I gotta keep my skills sharp – I’m auditioning for the performing arts high school.”

“Monroe mentioned he was helping you out. I think that’s great.”

“You guys good friends?”

Nick cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’d say so. We are now. When we first met, not so much. I accused him of kidnapping a little girl.”

“Whoa, um, I guess you got past that, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“It weird having a _blutbad_ for a friend?”

“No weirder than having a Grimm for a friend must be for him. He’s been really helpful to me the last few months. I was a little lost for a while there.”

“They say you’re a good kind of Grimm,” Roddy said shyly.

“Do they?” Nick said, and Roddy saw his face darken. “What else do _they_ say?”

“I’m sorry, man – I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

“No, don’t be. It’s just – well, a bunch of _Wesen_ started stalking me and my house a while back, and it was a little disconcerting. I think it’s half the reason my girlfriend left me.”

“What was the other half?”

Nick gave him a _don’t be a smartass_ warning look, but answered anyway. “Being a Grimm to begin with. I couldn’t tell her what I was at first, but then all this weird shit kept happening - _siegbarstes_ busting my house apart, _hexenbiests_ and _jagerbars_ coming after me. Eventually, I had to tell her. You know what she said?”

Roddy almost didn’t want the answer – there was a bitter note in Nick’s voice that seemed out of character. “What?”

“That I shouldn't have lied to her about it all. Like, she was unfazed by all the weird stuff and the bear maulings and whatnot, but it was my fault I lied to her. I was only trying to keep her safe.”

Roddy leaned up against the car door uncomfortably, trying to put extra distance between him and Nick, who, clearly, was a bit of an over-sharer. “Chicks!” he said lamely.

Nick eyed him out of the corner of his eye and Roddy saw his cheeks turn red. “I’m sorry, I guess…” He sighed. “I guess I’m still working some of my shit out. I shouldn’t be laying it on you. Promise you won’t hold it against me.”

“Promise.”

“I’ll make it up to you – How ‘bout a pizza after your lesson?”

“Only if we go to Ray’s.”

Nick grinned – the old pizzeria was clearly his favorite too. “Deal.”

“You don’t have to keep looking after me, you know,” Roddy said as they pulled up to the front of his teacher’s house. He was thinking that maybe the Grimm felt some obligation towards him, like he felt bad about all the hassle he and his dad had gotten when Dr. Lawson had been murdered.

Nick smiled kindly. “I know. But I like you, Roddy. You’re like the little brother I never had.”

Roddy returned the smile. “Cool. And you’re like the badass, nightmare-inducing big brother I never had.”

“Get outta here!” Nick said, and punched him playfully on the shoulder.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“Your tone’s all off,” Monroe said to Roddy, getting up and setting his own instrument aside. They were practicing at his place – the acoustics in the old Cape Cod were surprisingly great – and had been for the last few weeks. He took a step forward and grabbed up Roddy’s violin. “Maybe you need to have it tuned – holy crap, look at these strings!”

“What?”

“They’re atrocious – when was the last time you had it restrung?”

“I don’t know – two years ago?”

“Two years?” Monroe had that affronted whine in his voice like when someone put Sweet ‘n’ Low in their coffee. “Why so long?”

“Well, it’s expensive to have it serviced. I don’t exactly have cash pouring out of my pockets, Monroe!”

Monroe’s expression softened. “Ah ha. Get your jacket.”

“Huh?”

“Get your jacket, we’re taking you to see my guy downtown. There’s no way you’re going to your audition with that instrument sounding like that.”

“Monroe, stop! I can’t possibly let you do that for me,” Roddy protested. The last few weeks, he had been very grateful to Monroe and Nick – each man had taken it upon himself to watch out for him, seeing that he got to his music lessons and kept his grades up – Nick even helped him get a B- on his last algebra test. But he felt like he had to draw the line somewhere; that their generosity was bordering on charity, and he didn’t like it. 

“Don’t be silly, I want to.”

“I don’t doubt that you do, but I can’t let you, man. I already owe you so much.”

“I never said you’d owe me anything, Roddy. You know I like you, right? You’re like the little brother I never had. Correction: you’re like the little brother I wish I had. My real brother’s a pain in the ass. This one time – “

“Monroe, come on. You and Nick have been really great to me, and I appreciate it. But I’m not, like, this charity to make you guys feel better about yourselves.”

“Is that what you think? That we look at you like you’re a charity case?”

Seeing his reaction, Roddy began to regret his outburst, but at this point, he didn’t want to back down, so he just glared at Monroe. 

“Well, you’re not, Roddy. We get something out of this too. You know, _blutbaden_ are pack-oriented, and when I rejected certain aspects of that lifestyle, I had to give that up. And Nick – well, he’s a lonely guy at the end of the day, whether he’ll admit it or not, and he’s a bit of an outcast being the only Grimm in town. So we’re a couple of misfits, and maybe we see a kindred spirit in you.”

“I didn’t think of it that way,” Roddy said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. And now I’m going to mess up your hair, so be prepared.”

Roddy grinned as Monroe fondly tousled his curls. “Now pack up your violin and grab your jacket.”

In the car on the way, Roddy watched Monroe drive with a new kind of perspective, and considered for the first time that he wasn’t alone at all in the world, not when people like Monroe and Nick cared about what happened to him. Sure, his dad loved him - he had to, right? But here were two people who saw some worth in him, _some worthiness_ , and it made him feel good for the first time in a long time, in a way that only music had been able to before.

“What?” Monroe said, noticing the added attention. He flicked his eyes at Roddy, then back at the road.

“Are you a lonely guy too?” Roddy asked.

“What? Of course not,” Monroe said, an obvious lie. “I’ve got you to hang out with. And Nick. Believe me, you two keep me plenty busy. Just last week, Nick was dragging me into another case of his involving a _lausenschlange_ …” Roddy shuddered. “Yeah, those guys give me the creeps too,” Monroe continued. “Anyway, back to the case…”

Roddy watched Monroe as he talked about Nick, and noticed how animated he suddenly became as he did. It wasn’t that Monroe was a boring or disaffected guy, but it seemed to Roddy that very few things got him really excited, and of those, only music and the Grimm seemed to fully engage him. As the _blutbad_ related his story, he put his whole body into the tale, gesturing with his hands, making faces and even using voices to convey the narrative. And when he spoke of Nick, his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. 

It gave Roddy the inkling of an idea.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Over the course of the next week, Roddy began to gather information about his two “big brothers” to see if his instincts were correct. He liked them both so much – and they seemed to like each other as well – it only seemed logical that they’d make a good romantic match. He began to think of it all in his head as “Operation Matchmaker.”

First things first, he had to be sure they’d even be interested.

“Nick?” he said one afternoon as Nick was once again driving him to his music teacher’s house. The detective had taken to just picking Roddy up from school on the days he didn’t rehearse with Monroe; he said it was something to do on his lunch hour, but Roddy suspected it had something to do with keeping him out of trouble, since he doubted the guy waited to eat lunch until 3:00 pm each afternoon.

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever dated a dude?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What brings that up?”

“Nothing, I was just –“

“Roddy,” Nick said, sudden emotion coloring his voice, “are you coming out to me?”

“Uh –“

“Wow, that’s, that’s huge. Gosh. Wow.”

“Um –“

“Listen, buddy, it makes me enormously proud and honored that you’d share that with me, it really does. I know it’s not an easy thing. Does your dad know?”

“No, Nick –“

“Never mind. Listen, I’m glad you told me, because if you want me to, I’m pretty sure I can help. I mean, I was in my 20’s before I could even admit to myself that I was bi, so I think I know some of what you are going through.”

“OK?”

“And if you need help with your dad, or finding your way in the community, just, you know, just ask. I can give you some advice, for sure.”

Roddy sighed – Nick had a big smile on his face, so flattered was he that Roddy would share such an important thing with him, that Roddy didn’t have the heart to tell him he was straight.

\----

It took him another two weeks to be able to get up the courage to ask Monroe the same question. 

“Yeah, I’ve dated dudes,” Monroe answered matter-of-factly. “I’ve also been with humans, _fuchsbau, jagerbars,_ even a female _ziegevolk_ once. But that was all years and years ago – relics of a misspent youth. These days, well, let’s just say I keep to myself, if you know what I mean.”

Roddy made a face picturing it. “I think do, man. But don’t you ever want to be – you know – with someone again?”

Monroe blinked at him. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it much.”

“Really?” Roddy didn’t believe him, and his tone of voice conveyed that.

“Mind your business, kid. There are a whole slew of complicated issues with me, and I’m not looking for a shrink or a mate.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve insulted you.” Roddy felt bad for prying.

Monroe put a hand on his shoulder. “You haven’t. But I gave up picturing me in a relationship a long, long time ago. You should too.”

Roddy didn’t know what he meant by that, but he didn’t let it deter him.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Roddy literally jumped out of his chair as the front door of Monroe’s house crashed open.

He’d shown up at 3:30 on a Friday to rehearse like he did every other week, but Monroe had not been at home. So Roddy found the Hide-a-Key and let himself in, and had just started running scales when the door banged open. He turned to see Monroe and Nick trying to enter the house together, Monroe leaning heavily on Nick with his arm across the Grimm’s shoulders. His face was literally grey and slack – like his life had been drained from him.

“What happened?” Roddy asked, alarmed. He ran to help, and together, he and Nick managed to get Monroe situated on the couch.

Nick stood panting slightly, looking down at Monroe with a bleak expression. “Succubus. She came out of nowhere – I didn’t know they could get that big. I got knocked out, and when I came to, she was on Monroe.” 

“Succubae eat men’s souls,” Roddy breathed, and crossed himself. The tales his parents told him as a boy suddenly sprang into his mind.

“Technically, it’s your life force, but you’re not wrong,” Nick said. “I killed her, but I thought… I mean it looked like…” He shook his head and shuddered, face paler than usual and unable to speak. He wandered off to the kitchen to find the first aid kit. 

“He thought I was dead,” Monroe said quietly, and struggled to sit up more on the couch. Roddy leaned over and helped him. “Hell, I thought I was dead.”

“You’re lucky you’re not.”

“Guess I’m stronger than I thought. God, I feel like hell.” Monroe’s face was so colorless, he might have actually been dead, and his body had been raked by the creature’s sharp talons; he was bleeding everywhere.

Nick returned from the kitchen and set to work cleaning up Monroe’s wounds. Roddy pitched in to help, but even with the two of them it took nearly an hour to get him undressed, cleaned up and bandaged. Nick commented that some of them probably needed stitches, but Monroe had refused to be taken to the hospital, and Nick seemed too tired to argue. Roddy just tried desperately not to think about what might have happened had Nick not been there, the thought bringing unwanted tears that he dashed away when he thought they weren’t looking.

By the time Nick and Roddy had bandaged the last scratch, Monroe had fallen asleep. Nick and Roddy went into the kitchen to wash up. 

“What happened, exactly?”

Nick leaned against the counter and shook his head. “I don’t even know, really. We were tracking her, and she must’ve doubled back on us. She was – man, I’ve been up against _jagerbars_ and _siegbarstes_ , and I’ve never seen anything this bad. She was – ferocious. I got knocked out within, like, a minute. When I came to, she was on top of Monroe. She was sucking the life from him, literally.” Nick stopped talking and shuddered, closing his eyes as he remembered. “I can’t be sure, but he almost seemed like a dried out husk at one point. Then I shot her, and there must have been some energy transfer back into him or something, because Monroe was looking normal again. But he wasn’t breathing, he wasn’t moving. I’ve never been so scared before in my life.”

“Sounds horrible.”

“Monroe he was – he was protecting me, you know? He jumped right in front of me when she attacked. I’m sure I’d be dead if it weren’t for him. He almost died trying to save me.” 

Roddy thought he saw tears in Nick’s eyes as he stared down at his hands, but he shook himself suddenly, and the mood seemed to pass. 

Nick walked through to the living room and looked down on the injured _blutbad_ half-lying, half-sitting awkwardly on the couch, and asked Roddy to help straighten him out. Roddy took Monroe’s feet and Nick his shoulders, and they laid him down comfortably. Then Nick grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch and carefully tucked it around Monroe, who didn’t stir the entire time. Roddy noticed how Nick gently brushed the sweaty curls back from Monroe’s forehead with shaky fingers before he stood up. 

“Hey, you think you can get yourself home this afternoon?” Nick asked Roddy, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to leave him alone.”

“Of course. Call me if anything changes, OK?” Roddy said, staring at the slack features of his friend for a second.

“I will,” Nick promised, and dragged the easy chair over to sit closer to Monroe. 

Roddy packed up his instrument and pulled on his jacket. As he was pulling the front door closed, he glanced back at his friends. Nick was sitting forward in the chair, hands clasped before him as he stared into the face of the man on the couch, watching him breathe, matching him breath-for-breath.

The next morning, Roddy picked up some bagels and cream cheese and headed over to Monroe’s house. Before he rang the doorbell, he peeked in through the picture window on the front of the house. Inside, he saw that Nick at one point in the night must have settled himself on the floor beside the couch and fallen asleep; he was curled up on his side, facing it.

Now, Roddy could see that Monroe was awake already, lying half on his stomach, his hand peeking out from under the blanket. He reached out to caress the sleeping man’s cheek, but then pulled his hand back, seeming to think twice about it. Instead, he got up, the blanket draped around his shoulders, and tiptoed around Nick. He was staring at him with a look of such open longing that it nearly broke Roddy’s heart. After a minute, Monroe limped out of the room towards the stairs, presumably to go up and get some clothes on.

Roddy waited another five minutes before ringing the bell. He thought it would be more respectful, somehow. He also thought he needed to step it up if he was ever going to get his two friends together, because they clearly had feelings but no intentions of acting on them.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Both Nick and Monroe were on hand the day of Roddy’s audition – Monroe as an accompanist, and Nick for moral support. They stayed with him and his dad in the waiting area before he was called, but Roddy was so nervous he couldn’t stop pacing the floor of the tiny room. He thought it might be annoying to Monroe, whose eyes were hooded as they followed him, but then the _blutbad_ caught his eye, stood up and approached him.

“You got this, kid. I know you do,” he said quietly, his lopsided, “sincere” smile on. “ _You_ know you do.”

“It’s only my entire future, right?” Roddy said nervously, but Monroe’s words were comforting. 

A door opened and Roddy was called. Monroe picked up his cello case and put a hand on Roddy’s back, propelling him in front of him into the next room. The audition was being held in a large, airy rehearsal space that had a bank of windows along one wall that flooded the room with natural light. More or less in the center of the room, a table with five chairs had been set up; four of them were occupied. There was a row of chairs at the back of the room for guests and parents to use. Roddy’s dad squeezed his arm supportively before heading over to take a seat; he’d taken the day off from work and had a tie on and everything, and Roddy was so happy to have him there. Nick gave him thumbs-up and a wink and joined Roddy’s dad.

“This is Roddy Geiger, violin,” the woman who’d come for them announced, and then took the empty seat behind the table. 

Roddy and Monroe took seats and set out their sheet music. Roddy glanced at Monroe, who nodded, and they began to play Bach’s Violin Concerto in E Major. The acoustics in the rehearsal space were perfect, and the notes of the composition filled the space with sound – Roddy had never heard anything like it. Monroe’s playing was a perfect counterpoint to his own, and he became swept up in the playing as he often did. He poured all his emotions into it: his yearning to find a place here, a place he belonged, where he could study his art, make friends, live the life he now knew he wanted, find his future as a musician. And all of that passion, all of the preparation and practice he’d devoted to this very moment was paying off – he’d never played this well before in his entire life.

As the piece came to a close, he chanced a glimpse at the assembled judges; all were paying careful attention, and one was even taking notes. Then his eyes drifted behind them, where his dad and Nick sat watching. His dad had his usual blank expression on his face – he enjoyed Roddy’s music, he really did, but Roddy was certain he didn’t quite understand it. And Nick – well, Nick apparently only had eyes for Monroe. Roddy was not necessarily surprised, but to see the expression on the man’s face – rapt, lips parted admiringly – was to look into the face of a man who was clearly in love. Unless Roddy was misreading them both, but he didn’t think so. 

They finished playing to polite applause from the judges, and a standing ovation from the cheap seats. Monroe got up and clapped Roddy on the back. “That was your best ever, kid, you should be proud,” he said.

As they all parted ways – Roddy and his dad to go home, Nick and Monroe heading for Nick’s SUV – Roddy chanced a look at his two “big brothers.” They walked slowly, lost in a conversation, smiling, laughing, and Roddy knew now more than ever that “Operation Matchmaker” needed to be put into action.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

TEXT MESSAGE March 24, 2012, 4:12 pm

 **Roddy** : Monroe! Guess what.  
 **Monroe** : Hey kid. Whassup?  
 **Roddy** : I got into New Horizons.  
 **Monroe** : WHAT?   
**Roddy** : I start in the Fall.  
 **Monroe** : Hey, kid, that’s terrific.  
 **Roddy** : XD  
 **Monroe** : I’m so proud of you – no one deserves it more than you. Great job!  
 **Roddy** : Thanks. What are you doing Friday night?  
 **Monroe** : I’ll have to check with my social secretary.  
 **Roddy** : Smartass. I want to take you out to dinner – to thank you.  
 **Monroe** : Aw, you don’t have to. Thank you, but you shouldn’t spend your money on me.  
 **Roddy** : I want to. You’ve done so much – let me show my appreciation. I insist.  
 **Monroe** : Fine. Where?  
 **Roddy** : Luigi’s downtown?   
**Monroe** : That’s awfully fancy, kid.  
 **Roddy** : Monroe!  
 **Monroe** : Fine – what time?  
 **Roddy** : 8:00?  
 **Monroe** : Works for me. See you then.

 

Roddy had a similar exchange with Nick, and on Friday night, everything was set. Nervous, he arrived two whole hours ahead of time to make sure everything was right. 

“Welcome to Luigi’s, do you have a reservation?” asked the hostess, a pretty young girl with a pierced lip, green eyes and long, blonde dreads she kept tied in a knot at the nape of her neck. The name tag on her sweater said, “Amber.”

“I do. Um, Geiger?”

Amber referred to her book. “Table for two – at 8:00,” she informed him.

He could feel a blush creep up his neck. “Yeah, I know, I’m early. It’s not for me though, the table. It’s for a friend? A couple of friends. I, um, it’s a date? For them. Only they don’t know it yet?” He couldn’t help making everything sound like a question. He stared at the bowl of mints on the counter in front of him instead.

“I get it,” Amber said with a smile. “You wanted to make sure everything was right, huh?”

He smiled back, her warmth making him feel more comfortable. “Yeah.”

“Well, let’s make it count, shall we? Let me show you a table.” She escorted him into the dining room and led the way to a small table for two beside an indoor fountain. “This one’s pretty romantic. A guy proposed to his girl here last weekend.” 

Roddy looked around – the table was more or less in the center of the room. “I suppose the fountain’s nice.”

“The water sounds nice – very calming,” she said.

Roddy moved from one foot to another. “Makes me feel like I have to go to the bathroom,” he muttered.

She laughed. “Hadn’t thought of that! Let’s see,” she scanned the room. “How about over there?” She led him to another table nearer to the bar area. It was less conspicuous, and there were less other tables around. 

Roddy thought it would work, especially if he was wrong and they _didn’t_ wind up hitting it off. He turned in place and looked back at the bar – from the back corner, he’d have an unimpeded view of the table, but still be able to be tucked out of sight. “Do – do you think I’d be able to hang out over there?” He pointed to the bar. “To be sure everything goes OK?”

“These people must be pretty important to you,” she observed.

Roddy smiled. “They are. I owe them a lot.”

“Come with me,” she said and walked into the bar. The bartender, a very tall, very muscular man, ambled over as they approached.

“Eli, this is – what’s your name?”

“Roddy.”

“Roddy. He’s setting up some friends on a date tonight, only they don’t know it yet.”

“Ah,” Eli said, nodding. Roddy thought maybe Eli had seen this before. 

“They’ll be at table 15,” Amber said, pointing.

“Mmm,” said Eli thoughtfully. “You should sit over there,” he pointed at a seat at the bar. “It’ll be darker in here later, and they won’t really be able to see you when the place is full of people.”

“Cool.”

Roddy sat down. 

“What’ll you have, chief?”

“Jack and Coke?”

Eli raised an eyebrow.

“Hold the Jack?”

\----

It was 7:53 and Roddy was so nervous he thought he might puke. Eli had brought him Coke after Coke and his stomach was so full he could feel it sloshing when he moved. He had to pee, but it was so close to 8:00 he didn’t want to take a chance and miss anything. Suddenly, Amber, who’d chatted with him for a while before the dinner rush began, waved her hand at him to get his attention as she walked past the entrance to the bar. Behind her, Roddy saw Monroe - chronically early as every clockmaker ought to be – and she led him to the table. He took the seat that faced away from Roddy, which made him relieved – even though the bar was pretty crowded, he still felt exposed.

Five minutes later, Nick showed up, and Amber showed him to the table. A few words were exchanged among the three of them, and then Nick reluctantly took his seat, looking around the restaurant suspiciously. Amber came walking over. “What’s wrong?” Roddy asked.

“They were expecting a table for three. They’re looking for you.”

Roddy was beginning to panic. “You think they might leave?”

“Not unless you tell them what’s what.” 

“Shit. I mean, shoot!” 

She pulled a blank piece of paper out of her clipboard and handed it to him with a pen. “Start writing,” she ordered, and Roddy thought fast.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“Where is that kid?” Nick said, glancing at his watch.

“You got me, he’s not usually late,” Monroe said, twisting around in his chair to look at the door.

The hostess suddenly approached and laid down some glasses of water. “Welcome to Luigi’s. Here are your menus. Specials are printed on the inside.” She smiled slyly at them and walked away.

“What, no drinks order?” Monroe said, watching her go, a puzzled expression on his face. He opened his menu and a folded up piece of paper fell into his lap. “Interesting way to print out the specials,” he commented and opened it up. “Oh,” he said, as he scanned it.

“What?” Nick asked, eyes on the paper. Monroe handed it over.

It read:

> _Dear Nick and Monroe,_
> 
> _Don’t kill me (really – because I know you each could!), but this is a date. I’ve seen the way you guys look at each other, and I thought it was about time someone made the first move since neither of you seemed about to._
> 
> _So maybe I’m wrong, but I really think it would make you happy to be with each other._
> 
> _Your friend,  
>  Roddy_
> 
> _PS – Order salads. I’m not made of money and this place is expensive._
> 
> _PPS – Seriously, don’t kill me!_

Nick looked up at Monroe, who was watching his reaction as he read the note. “Uh, wow,” Nick said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“These kids today.”

“They do say the darnedest things.”

Suddenly, each man found his menu to be profoundly interesting. “Look at that – wild mushroom risotto,” Nick said. “Your favorite.”

“My favorite,” Monroe said at the same time. 

Nick looked up and into his eyes. “Look, Nick,” Monroe began, but Nick cut him off. “What if he’s right?” the detective said.

“What?”

“What if he’s right? What if we’d make each other happy?”

“I don’t –“

“You don’t think it’s right? You don’t think it would work?”

“Stop cutting me off! I was going to say I don’t know what to think. It wasn’t even a remote possibility in my mind.”

“That we’d be right together?” There was a hurt look in Nick’s eyes, disappointment colored with doubt.

“That it even makes sense. You’re a Grimm, I’m a _blutbad_. You’re a cop, I’m a recovering… well, I’m recovering, and I’ve got a past, and I just don’t know, Nick.”

“Is it worth figuring out? Because if I’m telling the truth, Monroe, I think I’d like to try.”

Monroe swallowed and his eyes softened. “You would?”

“Is it so weird?”

“No,” Monroe said quietly. “Well, maybe, but I think I can get over it.”

Nick reached out and covered Monroe’s hand with his, rubbing at his knuckles with the pad of his thumb. Monroe turned his hand over and they grasped each other’s wrists before letting go, a smile making Monroe’s eyes crinkle, and a nervous laugh escaping from Nick’s.

“I’m going to need some booze now!” Monroe said suddenly. 

“You’re not kidding.” 

They flagged down a waitress and placed an order, and when she’d gone, Nick spotted Roddy at the bar, peeking around a tall man that stood in front of him, trying to see what was going on at their table. 

“Well, I found our little matchmaker,” he said with a grin. “He’s at the bar.”

“Should we get him over here – let him know his ruse worked?”

“Nah, let’s make him stew a little. He looks like he’s about to pee his pants every time he looks over here.”

The waitress returned with their drinks and they ordered their dinners. “Oh, and let our friend, the young man over there in the bar, order anything he wants, from us,” Monroe added. “There’s no way we’re letting him pay.”

Nick nodded his agreement and the waitress left. 

Five minutes later, Roddy approached their table, his nervousness making him morph rapidly between his _reinigen_ and human faces. Nick tried to ignore it. “Hey. So, yeah,” he said to them, shifting from one foot to the other nervously.

“Roddy,” Monroe said, nodding, Nick following suit.

“Ha! Yeah. Well.”

“You have something more coherent to say?”

“Uhhh… you mad?” 

Nick scowled, or tried to, but soon had to let the teen off the hook. “No, actually. You had the nerve to say the things neither of us could. So, thanks.”

Roddy positively beamed at the two of them. “Really?”

“Really. You want to join us for dinner? I’m sure they could bring over another chair.”

“No! This is supposed to be a date – you two don’t need a third wheel. I’ll just go back to my corner over there and, uh, hang out. I’ll maybe hit the bathroom first, though. Yeah, see ya!” He walked off in a hurry, leaving a bemused Grimm and _blutbad_ in his wake.

Dinner progressed as well as could be expected given their new dynamic, the alcohol making conversation a little easier. After they’d finished their coffee, Nick paid the check and got up to leave. “So, what’s next on the agenda?”

“My place?” Monroe suggested, looking hopeful, and Nick smiled. “We should give the kid a ride home first.”

“Where is he?” Monroe twisted around in his seat Roddy chatting up one of the waitresses in the bar, laughing and smiling at her. “He’s flirting with a girl at the bar.”

“Huh, really?” Nick said, confused.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that I thought Roddy was gay.”

“Funny you say that, cuz I thought he had sort of a crush on me,” Monroe admitted.

“A crush on you?”

“What? I can’t attract the young ones?”

“With the grandpa sweaters and the Pilates? You’re a real teenage dream.”

“You wound me.”

“I apologize. You can be my dream.”

“Cut it out. But really?”

Nick smiled and headed for the bar to collect Roddy.

\----

Thank you for your time.


End file.
